One Race Loser Submits
by The Nutty One
Summary: Two men. Both battling for your affections. Klaus Mikaelson. Damon Salvatore. You want them both. But who would you submit to? You take a chance. The rules are simple: one race, loser submits. Light bondage, m/f/m, second person, Damon/you/Klaus. PWP. Smut. Enjoy!


**One Race. Loser Submits.**

**Two men. Both battling for your affections. Klaus Mikaelson. Damon Salvatore. You want them both. But who would you submit to? You take a chance. The rules are simple: one race, loser submits. Light bondage, m/f/m, second person, Damon/you/Klaus**

Your fingers encircle the cocktail glass lightly. A _Screaming Orgasm_. Ironic, how that's the last thing on your mind. You twist your hand slightly, tilting the glass and watch how the liquid trickles close to the rim. Just a few degrees more… Control. Ultimate control; that's what you like. No messing around. You take what you want. And leave men broken as they watch your black stilettoes walk away.

The drink slips slowly away from the edge, away from danger as you relax your hand. You hold everything in your power. So much more than mere liquid. You know you can break someone or bring them to the brink of no return. You know you can make them feel pain or so much pleasure that they black out. That happened once; a man in his early twenties, dark haired with an average face. By the time he'd woken up, you'd left and taken his money.

You take a quick sip from your glass and catch the eye of a Blonde haired stranger. Well, he's not exactly a stranger. You've seen him before. You recognise him instantly. A known Dom, notorious for being ruthless. And he's looking at you. Brown eyes, sparkling with a hint of lust, look over you. Eyes linger on your cleavage, rake over your hourglass figure and finally rest on the curves of your ass. Leather: attracts any guys' attention. As he continues to look, you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes.

You fork him instead. Nails elegantly painted in red, shaped and they glimmer in the dim light. Out the corner of your eye you see his eyes widen a fraction. He wasn't expecting that. He's used to women bending to his will. But not you. You turn back to your drink.

The blonde isn't the only Dom in that room. You might not be as ruthless as he is, but you still know how to break someone. You drink the last of your cocktail in one. The bar man watches you, eyes locked on your mouth. You wink and push the glass towards him. He fills it and says it's on the house. Men. They're so easy.

It all started out as a quick thing for money. You'd never lower yourself to prostitution; where's the dignity in that? Instead you took a few Dom classes. And now you charge £300 for a half hour session to show people the pleasure found in pain. They're all masochists. The whole fucking lot of them.

"A _Screaming Orgasm_?" It's a rough English voice, husky with undertones of desire. It's one you've heard way too many times before. "I always thought of you as more of a _Sex on the Beach _kind of woman." His voice belongs on a sex tape. Whispering dirty little secrets about wet pussies and hard cocks and everything in between. He's not even close to you yet you can almost imagine the ghosting coolness of his breath over your neck, the exhale of breath against your breasts…

You blink slowly and turn your head to him even slower. Blonde hair catches your attention first. Styled in a quick style, little gel but clean. Then it's those brown eyes. They give nothing away but his desire. Like yourself, he's learnt to hide all emotions. His lips are curved up in a smirk and you know he's looking over you too. He was eye fucking you from across the room earlier. God only knows what's going through his mind right now.

So you let your own gaze wonder. Broad shoulders, sculpted by muscle. A shirt that clings in all the right places and jeans which look to be glued to the muscles in his thighs. He takes the seat beside you and one hand – his left – comes to rest on his thigh, an inch away from where his cock is entrapped within his jeans. "Brandy for me," he says to the bar man but his eyes ever leave your body.

His voice. You're previous plan seems to have disappeared. You find yourself watching him as he raised the glass to his lips, Adam's apple bobbing as his takes a drink. A deep drink. The blonde's tongue peeks from between his lips, catching the stray droplet of liquid in the corner of his mouth. He sees you watching and raises an eyebrow. "Klaus," he says. No surname.

"So, Klaus No Surname, what brings you here?" You don't offer him a name. If his reputation is correct then you know he'll already know your name. Klaus will have an entire file on you. He'll probably even know the name of your first pet fish.

You let your gaze wonder around the club. The flickering lights skim over people's faces, highlighting each in turn. Byrne, another Dom, a blonde haired brown eyed sex God glances towards you. He watches out for you. Watches over you despite the fact that he knows you don't need it. And then his eyes flicker away to someone else, a girl he's had his eyes on even though she's the sub to another woman.

Klaus doesn't answer your question. Instead he simply says "I know Byrne's watching us. Watching you," he quickly amends and takes another sip of his brandy. Dark eyes watch you over the rim of his glass. "As for my surname, you don't need to know it."

"Yet you know everything about me," you say dryly. Klaus' left hand moves closer to his crotch, a typical male thing, which draws your attention. He's semi-erect in his jeans. You reach out with your hand, your cocktail glass long forgotten. Your nails gently scrape over the skin on the back of his hand and you feel the muscle twitch beneath your touch. "And Byrne always watches me. It's the whole "can't have yet I still want" thing."

"Lucky for you," Klaus says and his hand leaves his brandy glass to close over your fingers. His touch is warm, warmer than you thought and just by that touch alone you can feel the strength inside him. "I want you, and I know I can have you."

A smirk graces your lips and you raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You presume a lot, don't you?"

"I presume because I know." His voice has dropped again. So fucking husky. So fucking desirable… And the worse thing: he knows it too. Klaus leans in and for once you let him. Anybody else and you'd have leaned back, rejected them and stole their drink all in one move. "I know you're like me. You love control. You love the thrill of the chase. But me and you," he pauses for a moment and you reveal in the feeling of his cool breath on the nape of your neck. "I could make your world come alive. Your deepest, darkest fantasies…" Klaus leans back, a smug smirk on his face. You know he can't win.

But it's fine. Two can play at this game.

You lean forward, giving him ample room to stare at your cleavage. "Well that's going to be pretty hard," you whisper and allow your hand to grip him through his jeans. "Considering there's a line of guys waiting to do just that. So you'll have to wait your turn."

You stand from your bar stool and wink at Klaus over your shoulder. With a flick of your hair, you walk away and you know full well that he's watching you go.

And you love every minute of it.

**One Race. Loser Submits**

_Your fingers fumble for the lock as his body presses against yours. Rough. Aggressive. Animalistic. All muscle. His lips have claimed yours and for once you submit and allow him to do as he pleases. Hard hands grip your hips with a force that is sure to bruise. You don't care. You don't care about the marks he leaves. You don't care about the aches you'll have in the morning. All that matters is him. _

_ "I knew I'd have you," he says against your neck. His teeth nip gently and he smirks against your neck as you shudder in pleasure. "Can you remember that? Because after this, all you'll ever want is me." At his words you whimper and melt against his touch, such a demanding touch and his words… With those alone you know he can play you like a puppet master… And you're a slave to his every whim…_

_ It's that moment that you finally manage to unlock the door. Both of you fall through the door and it's only then that you find yourself pressed up against the nearest convenient wall. His hands are against the wall, trapping you there. Not that you'd want to escape. Brown eyes hold yours and you daren't look away. It's been a long time since you've reacted like this. No man has ever had this effect on you, this all-consuming effect that makes you want to give everything to them: mind, body and soul. _

_ "I can remember," you answer him and your voice is barely above a whisper. He presses against you and you can feel every inch of him against your body. Every. Fucking. Inch. "And I don't want to forget it." _

_ His hands grip your shirt and with a quick flick of his wrists the fabric rips; a harsh tearing sound that sends desire rocketing through you. "I'll never let your forget." He bows his head to your breasts as he trails his tongue across the curve of your bra. Just a mere hint at the touch he can give you. Just a mere hint and you're fucking hating it. You want it all, everything he can give you and then some. _

_ "You know something?" Your fingers are nimble with the buttons on his shirt. The fabric is soft beneath your fingers, barely there at all. In fact, you wish it wasn't there. You push the shirt from his broad shoulders where it flutters to the ground. "You talk way too much."_

_ And those words seem to unleash a demon inside him. He pushes you against the wall and your head hits it with a dull thud. Pain flares through your skull but you ignore it. All that matters is the lips on yours: demanding, punishing yet wonderful. His hands rest on the top of your jeans and easily flick open the button and pull down the zip. Your jeans fall around your ankles and then his hand is on you, pressing you in all the right places and playing you in every single way you can imagine. _

_ His breathing his harsh against your body and you can feel every heave of his chest as he fights to control himself. And then his fingers push your panties to one side and all thoughts soon fly from your mind. His fingers roam over your wetness, teasing your clit. Every movement, from the slightest to the more powerful sends sparks up your spine. _

_ Two fingers press against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through you. His fingers spread the wet folds of you labia and you can't help but moan and rock your hips up to meet his fingers. God this is it, his touch…you've waited for it so long… _

_ And then, as if he can sense your longing, he pulls his fingers away. You watch him as he raises them to his mouth and his tongue ghosts over his fingers, tasting your wetness. He smirks as if he knows what he's done. "Sit." He points to a chair in the corner of the room. "With your legs wide. I want to see your pussy in all its glory." _

_ You do as you're told. The wooden chair is cool on your thighs and you revel in the change of temperature against your heated skin. He walks over slowly, his eyes raking over your body. Your breathing is harsh and fills the room. Your breasts ache to be free, straining against your bra at the look in his eyes. Desire tingles deep inside you as his eyes linger on the wet folds of your pussy. You squirm on the chair as you ache to close your legs; anything to get an ounce of friction…_

_ "Keep them there. Don't even think of closing your legs." His voice is deep. Sexy. Fuck. Is it possible to fuck someone's voice? "Do you like the thought of that? Being open for me, having my eyes being able to see every inch of your body?" he moves closer, slowly. Like a hawk watching his prey; eyes filled with longing and the thrill of the hunt. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"_

_ You dare to smirk at him. "No, but I can hope." _

_ He kneels before you, his rough hands on your thighs. His smirk mirrors yours and he pulls you forward so your pussy is inches from his mouth. "Oh I'll have you doing more than just hoping." Never leaving your gaze, he lowers his mouth to your aching pussy. Lips suckle on your clit and you moan loudly, your head thrown back. Hands rest on your thighs, the short nails biting into your soft skin._

_ His tongue traces up the side of your clit and down the other, teasing you. You rock yourself against his mouth, whimpering when he bites lightly on your clit. Flicks his tongue against your clit, again and again and again; leaving you a whimpering mess. Your hips gyrate against the chair and his mouth, increasing the pressure only for it to lessen and then increase again. The pleasure sweeps down you clit as his tongue moves, and finally finds your pussy. In an almost gentle fashion, he laps against your entrance and again the tingling sensation begins to build until he presses on your thighs to keep you from bucking into his mouth. _

_ You feel his tongue inside you, ghosting through you and then up to your clit. Pussy and then clit, back to clit and then to pussy and back to clit. He alternates the pressure, pushing you to the brink only to pull away and reach for you to bring you back away from the edge. It's so beautifully done yet such a bastard of a technique that you feel tears stinging in your eyes at the effort to make yourself come, just to get the pleasure. _

_ As if he can sense your longing and desire, he increases the pressure of his tongue. Every swipe, every flick sends you reeling and your hands come to rest in his hair, holding him there as locks of hair entangle your fingers. It's there. You can see the edge coming, can feel the pressure building in your pussy and your hips fight to buck and gain more friction. And then, with one more flick of his tongue, with one more lap at your pussy, it's all over. _

_ Your climax washes over you and your pussy clenches around his tongue and you cry out his name. Beads of sweat form on your collar bone and roll down over your heaving cleavage. Your breathing is harsh as you moan and silent tears of pleasure trek down your face. God you've never felt anything like it… _

_ He stands slowly, wiping away your wetness from the edges of his mouth. And it's only then when you look at him fully. _

_ Brown eyes. _

_ Broad shoulders._

_ Blonde hair._

You wake with a gasp. The covers fall to your lap as you struggle to sit up. Klaus. The Klaus who doesn't have a surname was in your dream. You groan and let your head fall back. Yet as you move, you notice the wetness that coats your thighs and you whimper at what this means. Fuck. It's not just his voice. It's him. And as he said in his dream. He's all you'll ever want.

But you're not that much of a torturer. You know what your body wants and you'll give in. You move down your bed, pushing away the covers and allow one hand to trail slowly down your body. The other hand cups your breast, ghosting over your nipple and gently pinching just enough to make you gasp at the brief pain.

Your hand spreads the wet folds of your pussy, and you moan at how wet your dream has gotten you. Your fingers slip easily over your clit and you massage it slowly, kneading it back and forth and allowing your hips to buck in time with the movements of your hand. Pleasure begins to sweep through you though it's nothing compared to what you felt in the dream.

The after effects still linger though. Your clit pulses against your fingers and your body is damp with sweat. You whimper as you allow two fingers to slip easily into your pussy, and you close your eyes and imagine it to be Klaus who pleasures you. Unconsciously, your legs spread wider and you use the palm of your hand to rub your clit in time with the thrusting movements of your fingers. Muscles clench around your fingers and you breathe lowly as you continue to slowly bring yourself to the edge.

It's nothing like your dream. This is slow, soft and is all about you. You allow yourself to think thoughts of the Blonde head and slowly the brink comes closer and closer, slowly creeping up on you. Your fingers flex within you and your eyes roll back as you tease your sweet spot with your fingertips.

It doesn't take much to make you climax. The dream still flashes through your mind and you can feel Klaus's lingering gaze on you from the club. Waves of pleasure crash over you and you arch your hips from the bed, wishing there was a hot male body above you that would thrust into you. Instead your fingers move steadily, kneading your sweet spot.

When the pleasure subsides you sigh and allow your body to melt back onto the bed. You can't feel your limbs and you don't care. All you care about is that fucking Blonde head and that glorious bastard's voice. Fucking hell. He was right.

He's all you'll ever want.

**One Race. Loser Submits.**

A few days pass by until you go back to the club. You move past the sweaty, dancing bodies and take a seat on your barstool. It's your barstool. No one else sits there. It's as if they all know. One look at the bartender and a cocktail is placed in front of you. It's not a _Screaming Orgasm _this time. Maybe a _Dirty Red headed Slut_ or a _Leg Spreader_. You don't care much. Whatever it is, is alcohol and that's all that matters.

You tap your red nails on the bar surface slowly. You don't bother to look up from your drink. Even here you can feel the heated stares on your back. Unlike last time, there's two. Two heated stares and you smirked to yourself as you take a drink of the cocktail. Definitely a _Leg Spreader_. Ironic how you hope Klaus will do the same thing to you.

"I didn't expect to see you here so soon." You turn slowly to the sound of his voice. It's not Klaus'. Sadly. Instead a dark haired man stands in front of you, dressed in black. Lean muscle, arrogant gleam to his blue eyes and a posture that you'd love to break. You don't say anything to him, instead you just look at him. Pale skin, blue eyes, black hair that falls in front as if to hide them. Another Dom. Damon, you remember his name. You remember Byrne speaking about him. "You don't recognise me, do you?" He seems almost wounded at the thought so you play along with him.

"Clearly you didn't make that big an impression on me when we first met."

Damon doesn't react. Instead he takes the seat beside you – the same one that Klaus took last night. He orders a drink, Bourbon, and sits beside you in silence. Slowly, he takes a sip of his drink and raises an eyebrow to you. Cocky. Arrogant. And for some reason, it attracts your attention like a moth to a flame. "Looks like I'll have to change that," he says as he places his glass down.

"Sadly for you, you'll be changing nothing." It's that voice again. That Glorious Bastard's voice. He's standing behind you, so close that you can feel his body heat. Damon glances up with a bored gaze.

"And you are?"

"Klaus."

You watch the colour drain from Damon's face and he looks away to glance at his drink. Such a change of demeanour. Interesting. For a few moments there is silence, only broken by the pounding beats of music. Part of you thinks Damon will submit, move on and dispel back into the sweaty, dancing bodies. But he doesn't. Instead he clears his throat and looks straight into Klaus' eyes. "I was here first." His words should have sounded childish, like some claim made by a naive child who doesn't know any better. Instead they are anything but; strong, demanding and his arrogant tone is back once more. It's interesting to see how he refuses to back down, despite the fact that Klaus is both taller and more muscular than him.

"Really?" Klaus' tone shows his boredom and his thoughts towards Damon are clear. For a moment Damon just looks back, clearly not understanding Klaus' one word answer. You sit between them, eyeing them both warily. It wouldn't be the first time men have fought for your attention, or your bed. "Then you clearly weren't here the other night," Klaus finally says. The tension is thick in the atmosphere. You take a sip of your cocktail, as you do, both pairs of eyes following your lips. You finish your drink and allow your tongue to peak out, catching a stray drop. Blue eyes and brown eyes follow your tongue.

Setting your glass back down on the bar, you turn to both of them. "I know how we can solve this," your voice is low, suggestive and seductive. "One race, just the two of you." You point one long, red, perfectly manicured nail at both of them. "And the loser submits. That way, you both get me. And I get both of you."

**One Race. Loser Submits.**

The track is dark by the time the three of your arrive. You call it a track but it isn't really. Just an empty strip of road. A few others have heard about the race, and they stand at the edges of the track whispering about bets that have been placed and money that has been gambled. You step from Byrne's car – a red Audi R8 that claims everyone's attention. Once he'd heard about the race he insisted that he drive you there. You don't really care. A free ride is a free ride. And tonight, you hoped to be getting more than just a free ride.

There's a rev of an engine behind you and you turn to see a sleek, black and orange Lamborghini Aventador glide up easily beside the R8. The windows are blacked out so you can't see in but you know who it is. You doubt Klaus would bring something so flashy. The doors open with barely any effort, the car moving a fluidly as its owner. You're right. Damon steps out, his eyes instantly meeting yours. He looks over your body, eyes widening as he takes in your outfit. Or lack of one. Beside you, Byrne clears his throat and Damon's eyes glance over to him before flickering back to you. "I see Klaus didn't bother to turn up," Damon says proudly, looking around as it to confirm it once more.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to not count your chickens before they hatch?" you say quietly but Damon catches every word. His eyes widen when you hear the quiet rumbling of another engine.

Both of you turn to see a motor bike – a MTT Super Bike Y2K if you remember correctly. It's black and blends in with the dark leather that its' rider wears. The helmet is dark and as Klaus turns to you, you feel your lips part. You know who you want to win. You know who you want to dominate you and you know who you want to dominate. Klaus makes a gesture with his hand – doesn't even bother to remove his helmet to see you.

"He says he's ready," You say to Damon. And then, louder, you say: "The track is easy. Go down this stretch, switch sides and then around the roundabout at the bottom. Then continue, switch sides once more and go around the final roundabout twice. Then come straight up. That's the race."

Klaus nods and behind the dark visor of his helmet, you can feel his deep, brown gaze on you, searing with lust at the thought of what's to come. Unlike Damon, he's not cocky. Just silently brimming with the knowledge of an easy win. He's older than Damon. He knows what he's doing. And he's not afraid of taking risks. Just the very thought of his voice, the thought of his hands on you and his eyes looking up at you as he licks your wet, aching pussy is enough to make your insides tingle with warmth and desire.

The dream flashes through your mind and you fight the urge to blush. Two guys. Two guys is all it takes and your Domatrix side is long gone, nowhere to be seen. Fuck. But tonight…you'll dominate one of them. You'll tie the loser down on the bed, straddle his hips… Fuck.

You turn back to watch the race. Both motorbike and car line up at the start and between them stands Byrne, arms raised above his head. "You know the rules?" Byrne says loudly, his black hair seeming to shine in the limited light. When both men tod, he continues. "Loser submits. You've been told the track. I'll give you the signal to go."

And then there's silence.

The people that have gathered along the sides of the track stare at the two rides, their hungry gazes raking over both vehicles. A slight breeze whips over the track, stirring the sparse vegetation along the edges.

Then Byrne winks at you, his brown eyes smirking though his face remains impassive.

He lowers his arms slightly, finger tips just inches away from each vehicle. At the action, Damon revs the Lamborghini and its tires spin wildly on the tarmac. But the motorbike stays silent apart from the purr of the engine. You see Klaus readjust his grip on the bike, leather clad fingers encircling the handles with ease and even from here you can see the strength in his grip.

And then, Byrne lowers his arms.

There's a quick, short moment when both vehicles momentarily stay in the same place, wheels churning up the tarmac. But that moment is gone so fast that you barely have time to register it. The car lurches forward at an immense speed, its tires throwing up stones. Klaus isn't far behind. The motorbike growls loudly, chasing up its prey and eating away at the ground beneath its wheels.

You move to get a better view and you hear Damon rev the engine once more as if to entice Klaus, as if to show off that he is in the lead. You doubt Damon has looked in his rear-view mirror, for if he had, he wouldn't be so cocky. The motor bike is less than a quarter of a second behind him.

"How do you manage this?" Byrne asks, and you barely restrain a startled flinch at his voice. You didn't expect him to come over so quickly.

You look up at him, despite being in 5 inch heels he still has to look down on you. "Manage what?" You ask and your eyes flicker back over the race. Klaus and Damon are neck and neck and it's coming up to the first switch. One will have to pull back or they'll both crash.

No one pulls back or slows down. Instead you see Klaus turn his head and angle the bike towards Damon's car. He's going to go for it. With skills that you haven't seen in a long while, Klaus angles the bike until it's a foot away from the Lamborghini before swerving out – making Damon jolt the car to the left. From this distance you can almost hear Klaus' laughter as he over takes Damon and switches lanes at the same time.

"To have two grown men fighting for you attention." Byrne doesn't seem interested in the race. Or maybe he is. He just hides it well.

You shrug your shoulder. "It's me. How can they resist?" You glance back the race, nothing much has changed. "But we both know this isn't about me. You still want her, don't you?"

Byrne looks over your shoulder and you know who he's looking at. The short, black haired, female sub. But her Dom stands close by, a tattooed arm around her waist. "Who wouldn't?" he answers. "Klaus' is in the lead. But Damon's not using the car's potential. He's waiting, just creeping up, until the final sprint at the end." You watch as both vehicles near the first roundabout. Neither slow down and you think of their stupidity. If they crashed now. If they lost control…

They pass around the roundabout easily, both missing each other by inches. Not near enough to cause a scare. Not yet.

"Go to her Dom. Go speak to Francesca. She changes sub every month. It's a miracle that she's lasted that long with her. You never know, it could work." Out of your eye corner you see Byrne mulling it over in his mind. He looks thoughtful and for once you see a ray of emotion in those dark brown eyes: hope.

Byrne doesn't say anything else. Instead you turn to see both vehicles beginning to go around the last roundabout. They go around it twice, each time getting closer and closer till only a hair's width stops them from colliding.

And now it's the final stretch. And Byrne was right. Damon was holding back. There's another tremendous growl from the car and it lurches forward again, tearing at the road as it continues to stalk the motorbike. Dim moonlight illuminates the dark tinted windows and for a moment you see a flash of black hair and a look of grim determination in those steel blue eyes.

The motorbike, sleek and deadly doesn't give away its lead. Klaus leans forward on the bike, pushing it to its limit. For a fraction of a second an image flashes through your mind; Klaus bent over you, his body moulding to yours as he breaks through your limit, pushing into you, pushing you to new heights…

You shake your head. Now isn't the time. Tonight. Tonight is the time.

The finish is become closer. The two vehicles race towards you, each edging forward inch by inch… The roar of their engines increases the closer they get to you. But you stand your ground. You stand in the middle of the track, Byrne by your side. This is it. The winner and the loser.

100 meters.

75 meters.

50 meters.

30 meters.

10 meters.

Finished.

Klaus wins.

Damon loses.

Both vehicles race past you and the breeze caused by them makes your hair fly backwards as if it wishes to grip to both men. There's a roar around you as people clap and cheer to Klaus's victory. Slowly you open your eyes and turn around to see Klaus standing by the motorbike, helmet under one arm and those mesmerising eyes staring straight at you. He beckons towards you. To which you raise an eyebrow. He might be a glorious bastard, but you're still a Dom. He should treat you with some respect.

You look around you until you see Damon climbing from the car. His knuckles are still white from clenching the steering wheel and he wipes sweat away with the back of his hand. He looks around him, seeming dazed, until his blue eyes land on you. In his eyes you see a mixture of disbelief and fading arrogance.

He's lost.

And he knows it before anyone has the chance to tell him.

That night, the house is silent. Apart from the sound of Damon pulling restlessly at the leather cuffs that bind him, spread eagled, on the large kind sized bed. He wants this. He's consented. But it's hard for him to give up his Dom side, to lie so submissive beneath Klaus and yourself. So he pulls at the cuffs. His wrists will be red, you think briefly – not caring at all.

You reach to the top shelf in the kitchen cupboard, pulling out a tube of raspberry sauce. Not your usual quirk. Normally you just use a whip to leave marks, or go one step further with blood play… But it's Damon's first time as a sub…don't want to scare the guy too much.

You shut the cupboard door and turn to head back to the room where Damon and Klaus are. As you turn, you catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Black lacy bra and matching panties. A suspender belt and stockings. Fuck. If it was possible, you'd want a clone just so you could fuck yourself.

The walk to the room is quick, your heels are surprisingly silent. There's no sound coming from the room. Good. Shows the sound proofing is actually working. You open the door and immediately both brown and blue eyes snap over to your direction. A smirk graces your lips as you see Damon's eyes widen like a virgin seeing his first fully naked woman. A quick glance over to Klaus shows that his expression is as controlled as ever but you see the burning hunger in the depths of those brown eyes.

"So, Damon," you say as you dim the lights slightly. At the action, Damon's eyes flicker over the enormous room, eyes lingering on the large wooden cross opposite the bed. He knows what it's for and you see a brief relief in his eyes that he's on the bed and not the cross. You watch as he studies the rack of whips across one wall, each whip one by one. They range from simple floggers that inflict more pleasure than pain, up to the mediocre riding crop and then the cat of nine tails. There's only been three times that you've ever used that. All on the same man. "This is your first time as a sub, I presume?" You voice changes, becoming more demanding as you slip easily into the role of a Dom.

He says nothing. Blue eyes seeming to darken and you're not sure if it's the lack of light or with lust. You choose the latter.

"You should answer her." Klaus says slowly, his voice low and demanding and you see a smirk grow on his lips. He pushes himself away from the wall, hand trailing over the rack of whips. Klaus fingers the leather of the riding crop gently, as if it's made of the most expensive and delicate silk. "I'd hate for her to use one of these." His tone along suggests that'd he'd love for you to use one. "I've seen the marks she's left on men before."

Damon's a Dom. He knows full well the marks that can be left using a whip. He's probably left them on countless others before. "Yes," finally he answers your questions. "It's my first time."

"First time with a man?" Klaus asks and Damon blushes lightly before nodding. "This is going to be fun." A hand trails up Damon's leg and he tenses slightly. At the action, Klaus chuckles. "You wouldn't react like this if that was a woman's touch." He glances towards you and you move forward slowly, placing the sauce on the floor so Damon can't see it.

"But first," you begin. "We're not going to touch you. You're going to watch while Klaus fucks me. While he fucks me hard and you can do nothing but watch." A quick glance to Klaus and you see that he's already hard in his jeans at your words. "And if you so much as look away…" You trail off. Damon's imagination can do the rest. He will probably conjure up something much worse than what you could ever do to him.

You meet Klaus in the middle of the room. From this angle Damon can see everything that happens. Every little fucking detail. A quick glance over tells you that Damon is at least semi erect in his black boxers. Hmm, that's a point. You should have told Klaus to leave him naked, so that he'd be spread out like a willing, human sacrifice. You love the image that creates… Willing flesh, yours for the taking…

Klaus stops in front of you and you feel minty breath wash over your face. God, this is going to be fun. Your hands instantly go to his belt buckle. Nimble fingers undoing the fastening with a clunk of metal and a quick _swoosh_ as you pull the belt free. You don't bother to strip him of his bike leathers. Instead you leave them on. You want to be fucked while he's wearing clothes. For some reason that thought is so much more erotic than the two of you being naked.

You undo the zip on his bike leathers, freeing his cock with one easy movement. Your eyes meet brown ones and you sink to your knees in front of him. Klaus's eyes widen slightly at your movement. Obviously he wasn't thinking of this. That's part of being a Dom. The surprise. You don't mind the position. You don't find it submissive in the slightest, it's just another way you can control him. Preventing orgasm. Teasing. Restraining…

And it's oh so beautiful.

A look towards Damon shows that he's doing as he was told. His blue eyes haven't drifted though you see him focussing on Klaus's cock. Maybe he isn't as straight as he thought.

But it doesn't matter. What matters is the cock in front of you. You take the head of Klaus's cock into your mouth, sucking gently, just enough to see his biceps flex with pleasure. Your tongue ghosts over the head of his cock, barely there…all teasing and no friction. Hot breath washes over his cock and you see his hands fisting at his sides, itching to clench into your hair but restraining himself, not wanting to show his obvious pleasure. That will change. It'll change very soon.

You hollow your cheeks around his cock, your eyes never leaving his face. Blonde hair gleams under the dim light and you catch the brief flicker of pleasure cross over his face. It won't be long until his hands are in your hair, holding you there while he thrusts into your open mouth…

Inch by inch you take his cock into your mouth and swallow around every inch. Out of the corner of your eye you see his hands clench into fists, knuckles turning white with the effort. Klaus is coming undone, and you're going to be there to witness every second of it… You pull back, allowing his cock to slip past your lips. It's shining under the dim light, your saliva easily visible. So fucking hot. You can almost imagine it sliding in and out of your wet pussy while you silently beg for more. Of course, you'd never give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

On the bed Damon squirms. His hips move on the sheets and his wrists are red from his constant tugging. His cock is erect and you can see the small patch of pre cum which stains the front of his boxers. His eyes are never leaving you, and they watch as Klaus's cock repeatedly slips past your lips.

You turn your attention back to Klaus. His hands are twitching, a sure sign that it won't be long now. Through your eyelashes you watch him and his blue eyes are focussed solely on you. You tongue traces up the vein on the underside of his cock and there's a slight buck of his hips as he attempts to follow your mouth.

Like you said before. You have the ultimate control.

And as you predicted, his hands come to rest on your hair, his fingers entangling. There's a slight pressure on your head as he attempts to make you take his cock into your mouth. And you let him. You take his cock back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around every inch that you take. There's a small groan and nothing else. You smirk around his cock. Tongue swivelling, you lick around the head of his cock, allowing saliva to run down his cock. God it's so slick and wet now… And then he moans, loud enough that you hear the springs in the bed creak with Damon's surprise. You look up to see his head thrown back, Blonde hair glinting and eyes closed.

Before his hands can tighten in your hair, you rise from your knees. A disgruntled look comes across Klaus's face. Brown eyes are near black with lust and they glitter and glint with passion and desire. His erection stands proud from his leather clad body and he rakes his eyes over your form.

And now it's time to give Damon the show he's always been wanting. You turn to Klaus, the disgruntled expression still clear on his face. "You should be happy," you lean into whisper in his ear but your voice is still loud enough for Damon to hear. "Because now you get to fuck me."

You move to the edge of the bed, your fingers fisting in the covers. Damon twists in his bonds, the leather cuffs barely allowing the move. You lock your legs because you know he's not going to be gentle, this is going to be pay back for all the teasing. It's going to be rough and fantastic, everything you need…

There's a rustle of a foil wrapper and while Klaus readies himself you watch Damon squirm on the bed. His eyes roam over your body, pausing on your breasts and on the wet patch at the front of your black lacy panties. Before this movement you'd never realised how wet you were. How sucking Klaus's cock had this effect on you. You smirk at Damon and you know that's feral for he glances away and blushes.

"Don't break your orders. I'd hate for you to feel the bite of a crop." Your voice cuts through the silence and before you have time to cherish Damon's blush, you feel Klaus's hands come to rest on your hips.

There's no warning other than the feel of his cock against your wet pussy. When he enters you, his hands hold your hips in a bruising grip. You bite your lip to hold back a moan as the tingling in your hips subsides as you're filled. Fuck. You never realised how much you needed his cock. How much it could sate the urges inside you.

"I want you to fuck yourself on my cock," Klaus' voice is low and demanding and for the first time in years you do as you're told without thinking. You rock your body forward, feeling the slight burn as his cock slides in and out of your pussy. Only the head is inside you and then you fall backwards, his cock deep inside you once again. The delightful stretch is enough for you to let your head drop back as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock, one deep thrust after another.

Just before you can fall back once more, Klaus' grip on your hips tightens. God, this is it. You brace yourself as he pulls back once more and then there is the sound of flesh hitting flesh and it's…it's oh so good. Your fingers clench the bed covers and you fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Damon on the bed. His eyes are wide and desire and lust paint his cheeks a vivid Blonde against his usual pale pallor.

Your body juts forward with the force of Klaus' thrusts and you can't help the small moan which escapes your lips as he hits you there. That tiny little sweet spot inside you that causes you to see stars. It's. Fucking. Fantastic.

It's only when you hear a moan from Damon that you suddenly glance at him again. You reach forward and grip the waistband of his black boxers. With a quick smirk and a flick of your wrist, you tear the fabric from his body. Immediately his cock springs free, long and thick and gorgeous. Almost as nice as the one inside you now.

You move forward and allow Klaus's cock to slip from your body. God it's almost torture to allow it to slip from the wet folds of your pussy. But it won't be long until it's replaced with something else. Holding a hand out, you wait until Klaus passes you the tube of raspberry sauce. You place it behind your body, out of Damon's sight. Without needing to ask for it, Klaus gives you a black silky strip of material.

"Lift your head," you say and Damon's eyes widen.

"Yes, mistress," and that's all he says before his vision is restricted, the blindfold tied behind his head. You pick up the sauce, quickly flicking the cap and you watch as Damon tenses. Obviously thinking it's lube. You roll your eyes. With a deft movement of your hand, you allow the sauce to make random patterns over his abs.

Beneath you, Damon shivers at the coldness of the sauce. A pink tongue flicks out to lick at his bottom lip, a nervous habit that you've seen exhibited in a number of submissive males. You lean forward, ass in the air, a leg on either side of his hips. Behind you, you can feel Klaus' eyes on you, watching every sweep and curve of your body. The thought makes you smirk.

You lower your tongue to Damon's body and you feel him flinch slightly in surprise. But the soothing motions of your tongue soon has him relaxing and his hands unclench from fists. His fingers stretch and his arms settle lightly against the covers.

The raspberry flavour of the sauce explodes over your tongue, tingling at your taste buds and making your head spin. Raspberry sauce. It's an orgasm for the taste buds.

Your tongue traces over the contours of his chest, dipping over muscles and rising with every breath he takes. Just to torture him, you make sure to keep your body an inch above his leaking cock. Damon will get no touch unless you grant him it. You allow your hair to trail over his chest, spilling over the muscles and making him stutter as it grazes sensitive skin.

When you reach his left nipple you nip at the skin making him squirm beneath you. Looking up you see that he's biting him lip. You can't have that. "I want to hear you, Damon," you say and Klaus laughs at your taunting tone.

"We want to hear you come undone," Klaus says slowly, joining you on the bed. You feel his hands on your body, pushing aside your panties. His fingers easily find your wetness, slipping inside you with a practiced ease. "I want to hear everything." And you know, that Klaus doesn't mean Damon. "Every. Little. Moan." He punctuates each word with a stroke to your g-spot and a flick of your clit.

You can't help it. Gyrating your hips you push yourself eagerly back onto Klaus's fingers. At the same time, you take Damon's nipple into your mouth, tugging at it until he arches from the bed, a breathless moan leaving his parted lips. Beads of sweat are forming on his forehead. With a few last licks, you clean his body of the sauce, moaning along with him as Klaus continues to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Behind you, you hear the distinctive click of the lube being opened. Thankfully, Damon is relaxed and fails to notice how Klaus is slicking his fingers. To distract him, you take his right nipple into your mouth, giving it the same treatment as you did the other.

You know the moment Klaus as breached him for Damon tenses slightly, his mouth opened in an 'O' shape. His body arches from the bed but you know it's in pleasure and not pain. The tiny movement of his hips, barely noticeable if you weren't straddling him as the first tell-tale sign. And then tiny tremors rack his body and you know in that moment that Klaus has found his sweet spot and is slowly introducing him into a world of pleasure that he only dreamt of.

And you're going to add to it. You rise until your dripping wet pussy is lined with Damon's hard, erect cock. When Klaus adds another finger, now a total of three, you sink down on Damon's cock, groaning at the brief stretch and burn. A gasp comes from the body beneath you. His hands are clenched in fists again as pleasure racks his body.

This is where the blindfold plays its tricks. The loss of sight makes all other senses, touch especially, hypersensitive; sets nerves alight and makes the pleasure spark to all new heights. And it's all because of the suspense.

Your hands are on Damon's chest, nimble fingers nipping at his nipples as Klaus continues to stretch him. He's withering beneath you, unsure of whether to move back onto Klaus's fingers or thrust back up into your tight, wet heat. Damon's head is thrown back, black hair glistening with sweat and for some reason you feel the need to see his eyes, to watch the emotions flutter through them as he loses control of his body to the inevitable.

Pulling the blindfold, the knot unties easily and Damon blinks rapidly at the sudden exposure of light. His eyes are wide and focus instantly on your breasts, his tongue peeking out as he watches your breasts bounce in time as you ride him. And then his eyes drift lower and he watches as you pound yourself on his cock with fascinated eyes.

The familiar tingling spreads across your hips, like a coil ready to snap. Chasing the feeling, your speed up, your downward thrusts becoming shallower and faster. Behind you, you feel Klaus shift and then Damon's mouth opens wider and you know that Klaus has entered him, opened Damon's body with his own cock.

You lean back, wrapping an arm around Klaus's neck to pull him closer. And then your lips meet, harsh, rough and demanding. There's no love. Just a mutual need to touch and be touched. Beneath you, Damon's body rocks with Klaus' near violent thrusts. Damon has somehow set up a rhythm. A thrust up into your wet pussy. A thrust down onto Klaus's hard cock. A thrust up. A thrust down. A thrust up. A thrust down...

The tingling in your hips spreads over your lower body. Your nerves are alight as Damon's cock continues to hit your g-spot. God, you've never been in something so hot before. The feel of Klaus' muscles at your back and the feel of Damon fucking you is almost too much. Your nerves are alight and your movements become more and more erratic, slowly losing the steady rhythm you'd set in place. Breathless, little moans fall from your parted lips and you see both men, stormy blue eyes and lusty brown ones watch as you fall apart for them.

You're almost there. Almost too close to the edge when you stop. You know this is torture to everyone involved. You rise from Damon's cock, allowing the head to slip from your aching, needy pussy. Beneath you he whimpers at the loss off heat though his erection stands tall and proud.

Instead you turn so that you're facing Klaus, your wet pussy inches from Damon's face. Damon moans beneath you, like a bitch in heat and he raises his mouth to meet your pussy, soft pink lips coming to massage your clit. From this angle you can watch as Klaus's cock slips in and out of Damon, and you can see the muscles in Damon's legs quiver as Klaus forces them apart, spreading him wider. Klaus glances up, temporarily stopping the punishing pace to Damon's prostrate. He winks at you, eyes lowering to watch Damon suckle at your clit, his teeth nipping ever so gently.

Your breathing quickens once more as you feel Damon's tongue lapping at your pussy. Fuck. You reach a hand out, encircling Damon's cock and you stroke up and down in time with Klaus's thrusts. Damon's breathing stutters against your pussy, his hot breath causing you to moan, your head thrown back and your eyes closed.

It won't be long now.

Klaus is in a similar state. He lost the rhythm he originally set up, instead his thrusts are becoming shallow, faster and more erratic. Beneath you Damon becomes more eager with his tongue, your wetness flowing over his mouth with every sweep of his tongue.

You know when Damon is going to cum for he stops briefly with your clit, instead blowing out air as his orgasm crashes over you, milky white substance filling the condom. His hips still and then his mouth is moving on your clit, even more frantic, tongue gliding over your pussy, in and out. In and out.

Klaus' hips snap back and forth and then still. There's a quick flash of pleasure over his features. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows his own moans, his hands holding Damon's hips as he cums.

The sight of them both climaxing is enough to give you that final push over the edge, You feel your muscles clench around Damon's tongue as if to draw him into your body and feel your wetness flowing over his lips. A small whimper comes from your throat. Your hips move in a circular fashion, seeking more and more friction as your orgasm peaks. Fuck. Your eyes close on their own accord and you see star explode as pleasure courses through each individual nerve in your body.

And then, it dies away, leaving your body relaxed and sated. You open your eyes to see Klaus pulling away from Damon and knotting both his own and Damon's condom. You smile to him, your first smile in months and for some reason, he returns it too. A few seconds pass as your breathing slows and then you move away from Damon, raising your hands slowly to snap open the leather cuffs that hold him in place.

Damon moves his wrists to his body, moving his hands over the red marks there. His blue eyes flicker to yours and a lazy smirk crosses his face.

"You don't mind if we crash the night, do you?"

**Hey up! Sorry it's not heavy BDSM and S&M, it was written for a friend of mine and she isn't into that! :O Which sucks, but oh well. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it haha. I've always loved the idea of a submissive Damon because it's not often that we get to see that side of him…**

** Anyhow, I'd love to know what you think! Thanks for reading and for any lovely reviews you might happen to leave! :D Thank you! xx**


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